In the Lone and Level Sands

David Lovato and Seth Thomas

Published by David Lovato at Smashwords

Copyright © 2013 David Lovato

This ebook is licensed for your personal
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Also by
David Lovato
, published at
Smashwords:

Hole

Dark
Things

Six
and Seven

After the Bite

Also by
Seth Thomas
, published at
Smashwords:

The
Morning Light

After Death

The Man in the Cell

Part One: Before the Storm

The Hex

Part Two: The Beginning of the End

Screams in the Night

Part Three: In the Middle of Hell

Torrential Downpour

Part Four: Counter-Clockwise

A Dead Man’s Thoughts

Part Five: Anno Letum

Life After Death

Afterword

About the Authors

Copyright Info

The Man in the Cell

What ideal working conditions
, Norman
thought.

His hands were bound by chains which ran to either
side of the room, connecting to the wall. His legs were in a custom
straight jacket that kept them from crossing. The few who believed
the charges against him thought it would prevent him from using his
skill. They were wrong.

At first he was upset that he’d been caught, but he
had thought on it and decided that a prison cell was the perfect
place. He was left alone, and while he was cleaned and fed by other
people, no one spoke to him. He could devote all of his time and
energy to reaching into his mind, calling for the magic he had
learned so long ago, building it up like a monument.

Confessing to the murders was the best decision he
had ever made.

He could still remember the way the kids had
screamed when their friends began eating each other. It was a shame
he wouldn’t be able to hear the screams this time.

The kids in his basement had been one thing, the
entire world was another. It had taken him years to learn how to
tap into the great collective unconscious, but he had finally done
it. Now it was simply a matter of afflicting all he could reach,
turning them the way he’d turned the kids before. It would be as
simple as flipping switches.

Humanity had become a plague upon the earth, but it
was not too late to save them, and he was almost ready to
begin.

Part One

Before the Storm

1

At the Airport

Maneuvering through the crowd was simpler than Layne
had thought it would be. They were slow-moving, but their speed
wasn’t the problem, it was all in their number. But he had come
armed with a plan, so while most of the people in LAX were busy
checking ticket stubs and overhead monitors and making sure that
they had all of their belongings, Layne was already rolling. He
still checked his ticket and a monitor here and there, but he did
so quickly, never missing a beat.

Despite all his planning, he somehow ended up at the
wrong terminal. It was no huge error, but it made him nervous. He
was as quick to make a plan as he was to get nervous, and within
seconds he found a map and was soon making his way through a crowd
of people to what he knew, for sure this time, was the correct
terminal. Then he heard the overhead.

“Flight 309 to Seattle is now boarding.”

New plan again: Run for it.

Two minutes later, he was being pressed against a
wall by a security guard. Layne could feel the guard’s spit on his
face as he shouted and twisted Layne’s arm around his back, which
caused him to drop his luggage. The guard pulled out a radio and
called for backup.

Layne figured that someone looking remotely Arabic
might not get away with running in an airport, but he was white as
a ghost, and this was LAX. People ran to catch their flights all
the time, didn’t they? He decided it must be the security guard
having a bad day, then. As soon as the backup showed up, Layne was
free to go, and then the spit was flying into the guard’s face, his
boss angry with him for overreacting.

Layne rushed to the nearest counter and slammed his
ticket down.

“I need to get on this plane,” he said. The man at
the desk looked at the ticket, then at Layne.

“So why are you here?” he said. “Take your ticket to
the woman by the door.” Layne felt like a moron, and he grabbed his
things and headed for the door. He was apparently not as late as he
had thought. There were even a few people still in line. When it
was Layne’s turn, he handed his ticket to the woman, who inserted
it into a machine. A stub came out, and she handed it to him.

“Enjoy your flight, sir,” she said with a smile.
Layne thanked her, and then went down the small hallway and into
the plane.

He had hoped for a window seat, but his ticket had
him placed in the aisle. He figured he’d bargain with someone if he
could, and if not, he had headphones. This flight wasn’t going to
be so bad.

Layne got to his row and took his aisle seat. There
was a young woman sitting at the window, staring out at the tarmac.
Layne could tell that attempting to make a bargain was going to be
more difficult than he had thought; the woman was very attractive,
and he was quick to get nervous.

“Do you fly often?” Layne said. The woman didn’t
react at first, but then glanced over and realized that he was
talking to her.

“Yeah, actually,” she said with the grin that comes
from wondering why someone you don’t know is talking to you, and
“You don’t,” with a different kind of grin. “I saw you rushing to
get on. And I saw you go to the wrong place to give them your
ticket.”

Layne laughed. “You got me. This is my first
time.”

“There’s a first time for everything, right?”

“I guess so.”

The overhead lights and sounds informed the
passengers that the plane was about to take off and told them to
fasten their seatbelts. Layne realized that there was probably not
going to be anyone sitting between the two of them, which was
quickly followed by the realization that he had completely
forgotten why he had spoken to the woman to begin with.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” Layne asked. He patted
the seat between them.

“Go for it. It’s always good to have someone to talk
to on a long flight.”

Layne moved over and buckled his seatbelt. The
engines came to life, and the roar made him nervous.

“I can imagine so,” he said.

“Hey, I’ve flown dozens of times, and I still get
nervous. What brings you here, anyway? What makes someone who’s
never flown before fly?”

“Something very special,” Layne said.

The woman smiled. “I’m Alex.”

“Layne.”

He looked around. The plane slowly moved forward.
Layne’s leg was tapping viciously, and he was gripping the handle
of his seat tightly.

“I can’t believe I almost missed my first flight,”
he said. Alex looked at him.

“Then I guess this is your lucky day,” she said. He
nodded as the plane sped up.

2

In the Morning

The door creaked when Cynthia pushed it open and
stepped inside the room. The bed lay at the far end, and Mal, a
girl of ten years, slept under a pink blanket. Watching over her
was a gigantic Hello Kitty poster. Cynthia walked over to the bed
and nudged the sleeping girl.

“Mallorie,” she said, “Mal.” She wiped a lock of
golden hair out of her daughter’s face. Mal moved a little, but did
not wake up. “Time to get up now.” Mal opened her eyes, sat up
slowly, and yawned.

“All right,” Mal said.

“If you didn’t stay up listening to your CDs you
wouldn’t be so tired in the morning.”

“I was too excited to sleep!” Mal said. “But I’m
kinda worried. I’ve practiced forever, but I’m still nervous.”

“That’s natural, honey. You’ll do great. Actual
ballets are performed at the Belmont Theater, it’ll be like you’re
dancing professionally!”

“Yeah, I know!” Mal said. Just like that, her
fatigue was gone, replaced with excitement. “It’d be really awesome
to be a professional ballerina when I’m older!”

“Well if you work hard at it you can, but right now
you’ve got summer school to worry about.”

“Yeah, I know.” Mal gave a heavy sigh. Despite her
desperate pleas, Cynthia had enrolled Mal in summer school a few
weeks earlier. It was for Mal’s own good.

Mal gathered some clothes from her dresser and left
the room. When she was ready for school, Cynthia drove her there
and then headed for work.

Cynthia was a florist at Daisy’s Floral. She was
lucky to have found a job that was also a hobby, as well as a boss
who was also a friend. Though she enjoyed her work, she couldn’t
keep her mind on it today. The recital took precedence. Her
excitement grew as the hours went by.

At a quarter to four, while Daisy Marden was cutting
rose stems on the diagonal, the phone rang. She set down her shears
and picked up the phone.

“Daisy’s Floral. This is Daisy speaking.”

“This is Gloria Swanson. The order I received is
half dead! Do you expect me to give these flowers to my mother as
is?”

“Half dead… One moment, ma’am.” Daisy set the phone
down and disappeared into the stock room for a few seconds, and
soon returned. “I’m so sorry, ma’am. Our delivery guy took the
flowers from the refuse pile instead of the delivery stock.”

“You should have made sure your delivery man knew
what he was doing in the first place!”

“Yes, I apologize. We can whip something nice up
real fast, if you like. Got lots of—”

“I want a refund!”

“Okay, and I assure you, this will not happen next
time.”

“Oh, there won’t be a next time!”

The woman hung up, and Daisy slammed the receiver
down. “Can you believe people like that? It was a simple mistake.”
She picked up the scissors and made a stabbing motion at her
throat. Then she forced a laugh, the kind that felt and sounded
fake, but managed to lighten her mood and Cynthia’s as well.

Cynthia smiled, then returned to her work. Daisy
decided to cut more rose stems, rather than her throat.

“How is Art liking his new office suite?” Cynthia
said.

“He loves it,” Daisy replied. “So do I. It’s like a
home away from home, but he doesn’t stay overnight unless he has
to. I’ve stayed there a few times myself.”

“That’s good. Great.” Cynthia thought about how well
Daisy and Art got along and wished things had turned out better
between her and Evan, but she shook those thoughts and returned to
her work.

****

Less than an hour before the recital began at the
Belmont Theater, Cynthia was sitting a few rows from the stage in
the mostly empty room. She picked up her phone when the time Evan
was supposed to arrive had come and passed.

“Where are you?” she said. “You know Mallorie’s
recital is in less than an hour!”

“Yes, I know. I’m running late, Cynthia. I had to
finish—”

“Evan! It’s always the same thing with you! There’s
always something more important! Are you still at the office?”

“I’m just finishing up, and I’ll be there in about a
half hour. There’s nothing more important to me than Mal, so don’t
give me that shit!”

“Just hurry up,” Cynthia said.

“I’ll be there.”

****

Evan’s computer screen went black and the blue light
on the tower turned orange. He grabbed his jacket from the back of
his chair, folded it over his arm, ran to the elevator, and pressed
the down arrow as many times as he could in the thirty seconds
before the doors opened. There were a few people inside, but all of
them left except for a woman, and Evan’s best friend, Larry.

“Hey Evan!” Larry said. “You finally out of
here?”

“Yes! Jane loved my article, which I can’t say I
expected. I don’t have to tell
you.
” Evan smirked. He
stepped into the elevator.